Week 16 Weigh-in - dose 7.5mg

Weigh-In Week 16: The Great Plateau Has Fallen!

Friends, Romans, jabbed countrymen – lend me your needles!

For I come bearing miraculous news.

After three long, gruelling weeks of emotional turmoil, quiet rage, and dramatic sighing in front of my bathroom mirror, the scales have finally moved.

Yes.

After being trapped in a weight-loss desert - where the only thing shrinking was my patience - I have finally lost 1.8 lbs this week, bringing my glorious grand total to 27.6 lbs (12.5 kg).

If you’ve ever experienced a Mounjaro plateau, you’ll know it’s not for the faint-hearted.

It’s like being ghosted by your metabolism.

Every week I’d step on the scale, full of hope and caffeine, and it would just stare back at me like, “Oh, you again.”

Three Thursdays in a row, I got the same number.

Not a flicker, not a decimal, not a whisper of movement.

I was this close to taking the scales outside and running them over with my Mini.

But lo and behold, this week… the number moved.

Downwards.

Like a divine act of mathematical mercy.

I nearly fainted.

I stepped off.

Stepped back on.

Checked the batteries.

Repeated the process just in case the scale was having a moment.

But no - it was real.

A crisp, glorious –1.8 lbs.

Reader, I screamed.

The cats fled.

The neighbours probably assumed I’d won the lottery (which, frankly, I had - the Mounjaro Lottery).

So here we are - 27.6 lbs gone.

That’s 12.5 kilos.

The equivalent of a medium-sized dog, several bowling balls, or all my hope and dignity from those three stagnant weeks combined.

I’m this close to two stone.

I can practically smell it.

(Though not too strongly, because nausea is real.)

And just to make things even more dramatic - this week also marks the start of a new era.

The 10 mg era.

Yes, after saying a tearful goodbye to 7.5 mg (we had a good run, minimal side effects, some bloating, a bit of attitude), I am going to jab my first 10 like a warrior stepping into battle.

I’m both excited and slightly terrified.

It’s like levelling up in a video game, except the boss fight might be nausea, fatigue, or an unexpected craving for plain crackers.

But if it means more progress like this, then jab me up, baby.

I’m ready.

After all, this journey isn’t for the weak - it’s for the strong, the stubborn, and the slightly unhinged (hi, that’s me).

The ones who weigh themselves multiple times just to be sure.

The ones who celebrate every decimal drop like it’s Eurovision.

The ones who believe that one day, we’ll step on the scale and hear angelic choir music.

So here’s to Week 16 - the week the plateau broke.

The week the scale remembered who I am.

The week I rose from the ashes of despair (and probably too many protein yoghurts) and claimed my victory.

Next stop: the magical two-stone mark.

And if I hit it, I might just make a speech.

Or a TikTok.

Or both.

Until then, I’ll be over here - jabbed, caffeinated, mildly nauseous, but gloriously triumphant.

With Love,

JABatha Christie